Resident Evil: Deep Fear
by Noah Newport
Summary: Chris Redfield investigates Avalon, an underwater research facility operating under a mysterious agenda. His mission brings him close to Dr. Adam Mifune, a shy and attractive archeologist who's in way over his head. When the facility's secrets are unleashed, Avalon becomes a death trap on the ocean floor that Chris and Adam must try to survive. A sci-fi horror romance. [M/M Slash]
1. Surface

**A/N** : This story takes place after the events of Resident Evil 7/Not a Hero/End of Zoe, and it is based off of that game's physical depiction of Chris Redfield.

* * *

Chris Redfield just wanted a shower.

It'd been a damn long couple of weeks. After exterminating the bioweapon threats in Dulvey, Louisiana and retrieving Zoe Baker from the contamination site, he had a brief stopover at BSAA headquarters for a debriefing before he could return home. As soon as he stepped inside his modest one bedroom apartment he stripped off all clothing from his aching body and headed straight to the bathroom.

He wasn't in the shower for more than thirty seconds before his cell rang.

 _God damn it._

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam. He snatched up his smartphone with a dripping hand. "Redfield here."

"It's Veronica."

Chris bit back a sting of annoyance. Veronica was the BSAA's contact with Blue Umbrella. Any communication she had with him outside of a mission had to be done through the BSAA first. Why was she calling now?

"Probably not the voice you wanted to hear after all the ruckus at Dulvey, I'm guessing."

Chris breathed. He may have been irritated but he was still a professional. "It's fine, Veronica. What's wrong? Has Zoe been released yet?"

"The Baker survivor is being kept under quarantine until we can confirm she's completely clear of infection. But this call isn't about Dulvey."

Chris wiped the moisture from his face. "Well, don't keep me in suspense."

"Blue Umbrella has received clearance to contact you directly with the details of a new mission. It's time sensitive and we have to move fast. An information package has already been sent via your BSAA email but I still need to brief you verbally on what to expect."

 _So much for that vacation_ , he thought grimly.

Chris hiked up his towel and took a seat on his couch. "Another contamination?"

"Not quite. At least, we don't think so. Have you heard of Avalon Station?"

"Doesn't ring a bell."

"Avalon is a deep-sea mining station located two miles below the surface of the Atlantic ocean. Its purpose, publicly, is to harvest minerals from the ocean floor. But we've recently received some strange intel related to their operations."

"How strange?"

"According to human resource documents that we've seen, they're currently hiring new personnel. On their docket: biomedical scientists, microbiologists, and one archeologist."

"To harvest minerals? That doesn't make any sense."

"Precisely. This raised a red flag. So we dug a little deeper and found that Avalon has been restructured as a scientific research laboratory. And we want to find out why."

"You think they're developing bioweapons?"

"What we think, Redfield, is that they found something of interest to the scientific community. And anything of interest to the scientific community is at risk for exploitation by private groups and the black market."

"You don't have to tell me," Chris grunted. His whole life had been defined by the opportunistic greed of powerful, clandestine organizations. "Do we think they're in league with The Connections?"

"No, we don't have reason to believe The Connections is aware of Avalon. We're taking every precaution we can to keep it that way."

"So what's my role in this?"

"Your performance in the Dulvey mission impressed us, Redfield. With permission from the BSAA, we're hiring you and two other agents to visit Avalon so you can interview staff, observe whatever their research may be, and ascertain whether or not they are in violation of the Raccoon City Accords."

"Avalon is cooperating with all of this? That seems hard to believe."

"They're run by smart people. They know it's in their best interest to cooperate with any outside investigations at the risk of their station being shut down and destroyed. If they have nothing to hide, if their research is on the level and has nothing to do with viral weaponry, then this should be a fairly easy operation."

Chris couldn't help but snicker. "Famous last words."

"If you'd prefer another BSAA agent is sent in your place, you have the seniority and authority to make that decision. But your success rate in this field is unparalleled. We wanted to make sure you were presented with the mission first. "

Flattering, he had to admit. Since their inception Blue Umbrella had done everything they could to make him feel useful and important. No doubt a marketing tactic on their part, but Chris couldn't deny that they were accomplishing genuinely good things together. If they hadn't collaborated with the BSAA to take down that E-Type bioweapon in Dulvey...

Chris reached his bedroom and took off his towel. His decision was already made. "When's the dispatch?"

"0900 hours."

He glanced at the time. That was only an hour away. "I'll be ready."

"Remember to read your information package. You and your team will be briefed on the rest of the details on your way in. You'll be arriving at the same time as Avalon's newest employee..." She trailed off a moment with a sound of papers being shuffled. "The archeologist. Dr. Adam Mifune. The purpose of Avalon's research hasn't been revealed to him yet either, so he'll be going in as blind as you will."

"Comforting."

"Good luck down there, Redfield."

"Copy that." He ended the call before he could change his mind.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the bedroom mirror. Short brown hair, stubble he hadn't shaved since Louisiana. The same chiseled, athletic features he'd always had ( _Romeo_ , his sister Claire liked to tease whenever he'd caught someone's flirtatious eye), albeit with bags under his eyes that made him look as weary as he felt.

Already, he could feel the familiar, warm build of adrenaline in his gut. Part anticipation, part excitement, and part fear. He didn't like the idea of being isolated underwater, but he could tough it out. He'd been through worse. And this new employee they'd be accompanying, this Dr. Mifune - hopefully he could help Chris figure out what the hell Avalon was doing down there.

He toweled off, packed a bag, and pulled on his combat gear. With one final glance of his stoic, unshaven face in the mirror, Chris headed off to start the new mission.


	2. Below and Beyond

Chris Redfield peered out of the helicopter window and finally saw it. A structure jutting out of the middle of the ocean - maybe some sort of communications tower - that loomed over a series of railed platforms.

"Approaching Avalon Station receiving platform," their pilot said.

Chris glanced at his two fellow agents. Both were from Blue Umbrella, not the BSAA like he thought would be the case. Their chopper ride had been mostly silent, with a handful of questions and observations traded here and there.

"You know, they say life itself got started in the deep sea," Zetterberg said. He was the male agent, Swedish. A blond bear of a guy with a barrel chest, strong limbs, and a ruddy, bearded face. Seemed more like a rugby player than an operative.

"Couldn't have been that easy of a birth judging by what came out of it." The female agent, Kenway, had been full of caustic remarks the entire trip. She grinned sarcastically at her Swedish teammate. Maybe she was nervous, but Chris didn't think she had any reason to be - the woman was pure muscle. When Kenway wasn't firing off quips and snarkiness, there was a real intensity and focus to her.

The chopper banked sharply around the side of the landing platform. Closer to the station now, Chris could see just how large the structure was, surrounded with machinery larger than most homes and a series of decks that created a bewildering maze. If this was how big the receiving platform was, he couldn't begin to imagine what awaited them below the surface.

The chopper slowed, turned, and settled onto the orange hexagon of the platform's landing zone. Zetterberg yawned as Chris noticed someone was standing at the edge, waiting: a tall, regal woman in a sharkskin suit.

In Chris' experience, suits were never a good sign.

Kenway gathered her curly hair in a ponytail and cracked her neck. Zetterberg checked and double-checked his gear, ensuring everything was secure. Chris hoped he wasn't making a horrible mistake in accepting this mission, all isolated in the middle of nowhere with no possible escape...

The chopper landed. Chris thanked the pilot, opened the passenger door and stepped into the bracing air.

The woman nodded at their approach. "Agents Redfield, Kenway, and Zetterberg?"

A question more than a welcome. Chris noted the lack of attempt on her part to appear friendly. "Affirmative."

"I'm Sanaa Wilke, head of operations at Avalon. As the highest authority on the station, your team will be answering to me and me only." Her calm, clipped accent placed her as English, with an upper received pronunciation. Everything about her was sharp, from her slim face to her impeccably tailored clothing.

Zetterberg eyed her neutrally, silent as a statue. Kenway muffled something vague and non-committal. Kenway seemed the type not to care about status, especially when it was flaunted around her like a shiny toy. She was working damn hard to suppress an eye roll.

Chris cleared his throat. "We appreciate your cooperation, Miss Wilke. We promise not to be too much of an intrusion."

"Yes, well. I'm certain you know what speaks louder than words."

"I'm familiar."

"Allow me to introduce you to our newest employee, he just arrived an hour bef-"

She looked behind her and, finding only empty space, her eyebrows pinched in annoyance. "Dr. Mifune was right here a second ago. For one of the most respected archeologists of his field, he has the attention span of a bloody three year old."

Zetterberg scratched the back of his neck. "Uh, if it's alright with you Miss Wilke, we should get the rest of our bags."

Sanaa looked down at her tablet, a great deal more interested in the screen than what he'd just said. "Yes. Fine. Meet me by the hatch."

Kenway nudged Zetterberg in the ribs as they headed back to the idling helicopter. "Dunno about you but that welcome has me feeling all warm and fuzzy."

Chris started to join them when he noticed a figure walking away on an upper deck of the platform.

* * *

Adam Mifune didn't like noise.

At the approach of the helicopter, he covered his ears and walked around the platform structure until he was as far as he could go without falling into the sea. He wasn't used to the roar of helicopter blades or the chaotic churning of ocean waves. He was used to the soft drone of fluorescent lights in an archeology laboratory, the muted clack of fingers on a keyboard, and the occasional glug of a water cooler settling its contents.

When the helicopter finally landed and the noise was replaced with faraway conversation, Adam tried to relax. He was glad he wasn't the only stranger being introduced to the facility today, but the fact that he was accompanying operatives from a private military company shifted his anxiety into high gear.

"This is standard procedure," Sanaa tried to assure him during his plane ride over, "A watchdog group initiating an operations investigation is rather common in our line of work. It's actually considered a rite of passage for most field research teams these days. Nothing to worry about."

Eager to avoid awkward introductions, Adam ignored the conversation on the platform below him and opened up the book he was reading on the flight over. The setting sun cast a dense, orange glow across the water. He trained his eyes to stay on the page. Looking up and seeing nothing but miles of water disconcerted him. The ocean's vastness made the platform seem tiny, a child's toy that might be swept away at any moment.

"All happy families are alike. Each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way," a man approaching him said.

Adam nearly lept out of his skin. "What?"

"Couldn't help but notice the book jacket," he pointed. "Anna Karenina."

"Yeah, uh, it's a habit of mine. Tolstoy joins me on all my field expeditions."

"Not a bad choice. Though I'm more of a Kerouac guy. Chris Redfield."

"Adam Mifune."

They shook hands. Chris, tall and athletic with rugged good looks, looked more like an actor on the set of a superhero movie than someone who could quote Tolstoy from memory. His neglected stubble and dark, haunted eyes, however, hinted at a depth of character. A history.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Redfield."

"Should I be calling you Dr. Mifune?"

"I suppose that's my technical title. But just Adam is fine."

"Read your bio in the information package I was given. Hope you don't mind me saying you've got quite an impressive resume. A master's in information science, a PhD in geology, doctorates in paleontology and archeology. All by the age of 25."

"You're making me sound much more accomplished than I am." Adam shyly looked at the metal catwalk beneath them. His fellow lab workers had more PhDs and doctorates than they could fit on their office walls. Compared to them, he was still rather green.

Chris joined him by the railing. "Former coworker of mine graduated college at 18. She was an expert in chemistry and medicine by the time her peers were taking their SATs. And she was just as modest about her talents as you are."

"Well, there's a balance, I suppose. Devoting the last ten years of my life to higher education and then my career hasn't left room for much else. I've more or less skipped adolescence and fallen right into adulthood. Lucky me."

"There's a part of me that can relate, believe it or not."

"I choose to believe."

Adam took note of Chris' stance, his dark uniform fitted with weapons and various pouches, his serious, piercing expression. Although their introduction had been friendly... there was a kind of wall up around him. A sense of danger just beneath the surface.

"You're one of the Blue Umbrella agents, aren't you?"

"I suppose that's _my_ technical title."

"Do you have any idea why Avalon's brought me here?"

"I was hoping to ask you the same question."

"They haven't told me anything. Just that they require my expertise and are willing to pay six years worth of my regular salary for a two-week contract. With, I might add, the likely possibility of extension and promotion. I basically dropped everything to sign the dotted line."

"For someone in your field I can imagine this feels like the opportunity of a lifetime."

"Well," Adam tucked a hunk of dark hair behind his ear. "I'm doing this to help my father."

"Your father?"

"Hodgkin's. He's been fighting it for a year now. Neither of my parents have insurance and mine doesn't even begin to cover enough of the expenses."

"I'm sorry." Chris lowered his gaze.

Adam felt a sudden flare of shame for sharing so much - too much? - with someone he'd just met. "I... there's been a lot of progress in lymphoma treatment. I'm just trying to stay optimistic. The next time I see my dad I want to bring him good news."

Chris' expression shifted, softening. A wall had started to lower. "Let's make sure that happens, then."

Despite his nerves, Adam smiled. Perhaps the next couple of weeks wouldn't be so bad.

* * *

"Agent Redfield, Dr. Mifune," Sanaa announced as they returned. "Glad you two found your way back. I'm sorry if our multi-million dollar research project interrupted your conversation."

Chris noticed Kenway giving him a teasing look. _Busted_ , she mouthed.

He wanted to remind Sanaa that their mystery project was actually under audit, but it didn't seem smart to start their working relationship on such an antagonistic note.

 _Just be a professional_ , he reminded himself. He'd kept a cool head under much worse circumstances, after all.

Sanaa led the group off the landing platform, down a short set of stairs, and through a metal catwalk toward a submarine-style hatch.

Adam exchanged friendly but timid hellos and introductions with Zetterberg and Kenway. Qualifications aside, he was still a civilian and could hardly be blamed for feeling intimidated. Chris made a mental note to privately ask his fellow agents to be as cordial as they could with the younger man.

He had to admit that Adam wasn't what he expected. When Chris thought of archeologists it brought to mind the jungle-hopping, wise-cracking adventures of Indiana Jones. Adam didn't strike him as particularly adventurous or daring, which wasn't meant as an insult. He had more degrees than Chris could comprehend. Adam was just... reserved. Maybe a little insecure.

Chris couldn't see why. Even ignoring his educational background, Adam was a good looking guy, which wasn't immediately noticeable behind the wave of dark hair that fell over his forehead. But it was true. He was slender, a little shorter than Chris, and had a swimmer's build. Lithe, not bulky. His curious eyes were the color of amber, and were set evenly above high cheekbones and round, pouty lips. He was... and Chris hesitated somewhat to use this word... _pretty_.

Again, not what he expected at all.

Sanaa opened the submarine-style hatch. "The bathyscaphe to Avalon is through here."

"With all due respect, Miss Wilke," Chris began, "I think we're all eager to learn about the nature of your project first. No one we've spoken to has much to say on the subject."

"And neither will I," Sanaa gave a smile, which disappeared as quickly as it came. "You will be presented with our discovery first. For that to happen, we must all make the descent to Avalon's facilities."

"Discovery?" Adam stepped up. "You mean you found something on the ocean floor?"

"Astute realization."

"What exactly did you find?"

"Actually, Dr. Mifune, that's why we've brought you on board. We're hoping you can tell us."

"No one on your staff can identify the artifact?"

"This is a relatively new discovery, Dr. Mifune. They have their theories... but I can say only one thing for certain. This 'artifact' is beyond what you think. What they found is no mere clay pot."

Zetterberg and Kenway exchanged a nervous look. Chris frowned but remained composed.

"Now," Sanaa said, satisfied to have captured their attention. "Shall we begin the dive?"

* * *

Sanaa escorted the group to a special staging deck beneath the platform where a bathyscaphe awaited, secured to a concrete footing. Adam was the first to follow, climbing down a metal ladder slick with condensation, passing a pressure hatch, through a float chamber, and into the large pressure sphere. The three Blue Umbrella agents followed. Sanaa took the controls.

"Please take a seat," she said. Above them, the hatch clanged shut. The sound reverberated through the submersible.

Adam glanced around the cabin. He'd never been in anything like this before, with walls and decking covered in gauges, ducts, tubes, and instrumentation with purposes he couldn't begin to imagine.

He sat down and placed his bags on the adjoining seat. Zetterberg and Kenway took the only two other seats. Realizing he had rudely taken up an entire row for himself, he quickly snatched his bag away.

"Sorry," he said to Chris, who stood awkwardly next to him.

"I can stand."

"I wouldn't recommend that, Agent Redfield." Sanaa took her own seat by the controls. "It's better to be sitting when your ears pop. And they will."

Chris acquiesced and took the seat. Adam readjusted, keeping his legs together to accommodate the other man's bulk. Not that Chris was abnormally large. Not that Adam was paying any particular attention to Chris' body...

 _Okay, you can stop thinking about this now_ , he scolded himself.

Sanaa engaged the controls. A low hiss of air announced the start of the propellers. The submersible bobbed along on the waves until the hissing grew louder. Adam stopped just short of covering his ears again. He didn't want to look delicate or afraid around such a tough group. Even if his stomach was flipping like a pancake.

The bathyscaphe began its descent into the water. Sanaa switched on a bank of exterior lights. Abruptly, the darkness outside the window beside Adam was replaced by a storm of white bubbles.

Zetterberg whistled at the view. "Bet I could wrangle a big fat blue fin with my bare hands out here."

Kenway groaned. "Please don't talk about wrangling a big fat anything with your bare hands ever again."

"I was talking about tuna, _din jävla_..."

Adam perked at Zetterberg's accent. "Swedish?"

The man turned from his seat, a wide smile across his bearded face. "Yup. Grew up in Viksjö. Do you speak?"

"Nah. I only know a bit of Japanese and French because that's where my parents are from. When I was younger I wanted to learn one of the Scandinavian languages but they stopped me."

"How come?"

"They said the food over there isn't worth it."

Zetterberg laughed heartily. Adam immediately found him likable; he was the sort of fellow who'd buy a round of vodka for everyone at a bar just for the hell of it.

"I know what I'll call you," Zetterberg said. " _Lillebror_."

"What does that mean?"

"Little brother."

"Dude," Kenway interjected, "I know he's young but he's a goddamn doctor."

"It's okay," Adam said, hiding a grin. "I kinda like it."

Zetterberg gave a brotherly wink before turning back around.

Beyond the window, the bubbles disappeared to reveal the dense green ocean. Adam peered out, looking for fish but seeing only indistinct shapes beyond the exterior lights.

"What's the depth of Avalon Station?" Chris asked.

"Over ten thousand feet below surface." Sanaa, again, paid them no mind as she tapped away at her tablet.

"Jesus," Adam said under his breath. The bathyscaphe was descending rapidly, and the emerald glow of the water was quickly darkening.

The submersible suddenly bucked to the side. Adam crashed into Chris.

" _Oof_!"

"I got you." Chris held him in place as the submersible bucked again.

"Standard underwater turbulence," Sanaa said without looking up. "No cause for alarm."

Chris stared at Adam, his gaze piercing and serious. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Sorry about that."

Goosebumps sprang up his arms as Chris released him.

"Seatbelts wouldn't be a bad investment," Kenway said. "Just saying."

The corner of Sanaa's mouth ticked.

The water had grown even darker. Their speed of descent accelerated. Adam felt the pressure building within his ears, they were ready to pop.

Blackness totally consumed the world outside. Adam peered into the inky depths. Somewhere down there lay a highly advanced research facility - along with something else, something unknown and strange, waiting for him to unearth its mysteries.

"We're almost there." Sanaa put her tablet away and took the steering controls.

Adam kept his attention on the porthole. Ten thousand feet down, the ocean was an intense, impenetrable black. And yet he sensed, against all logic, an ethereal and otherworldly glow that emanated beneath.

Chris leaned over him to get a look. His face was inches away, oddly intimate. Adam could smell the man's scent, woodsy and masculine, a hint of perspiration. The closeness was reassuring. Adam's heart tumbled in his chest.

"Look," Chris pointed. "Down there."

A huge, metallic dome lay one hundred feet below them, its perimeter dotted with high-powered floodlights. It was the research station. No markings or insignia of any kind were visible on the building. For anonymity, perhaps. It was a giant crown of silver marble, peeping up from a bed of sand. Slowly, the bathyscaphe approached an escape hatch on the far side.

Adam looked away from the porthole and found that Chris' chiseled face wore an expression similar to his own - questioning, apprehensive, and yet awed, all at once.

Sanaa locked the controls into auto mode and crossed her arms with cool, collected satisfaction. "Allow me to be the first to say... welcome to Avalon. And enjoy your stay."


	3. Here Comes Tomorrow

As Chris and the rest of the group exited the bathyscaphe, they entered a dimly lit cylindrical passage with another hatch at the end. The airlock behind them closed with a sharp clank, sealing everyone in.

 _No turning back now_ , Chris thought grimly.

There was a rush of escaping air, so sudden and violent that Chris' ears popped painfully. Behind him, Kenway grunted. "Fucking hell."

After several moments, the forward hatch finally opened. It flowed into a large atrium with a high, vaulted ceiling, crisp white walls and modular seating. The group entered, awed by the modern and cavernous space. It was empty, almost creepily so.

"Avalon Station consists of five Sub Levels. We are on the first: administration and communications. Sub Level 2 consists of dormitories, where you'll be staying, as well as recreation and leisure spaces. Sub Level 3: laboratories and research workspaces, the meat of the facility. Sub Level 4 is maintenance and life systems."

"Life systems?" Zetterberg asked.

"Oxygen and climate control, thermal energy management, power distribution. All the essentials for ensuring we don't suffocate and freeze to death."

Adam took in the huge room with a shaky breath. "What about Sub Level 5?"

"Sorry?"

"You said there were five levels."

"Sub Level 5 is where the discovery is held. For tonight, it's classified. I hope you all look forward to touring it tomorrow."

"Wait," Chris said, "Tomorrow?"

"We're running a skeleton crew this weekend, Agent Redfield. What little staff we do have," she checked the time on her tablet, "are shuttling off to bed right now. It's been a long day and we'd like you to get acclimatized to the facility before we get down to brass tacks."

Zetterberg tilted his head. "You're kidding."

"I never kid."

"I actually believe that," Kenway snorted.

"Dr. Mifune, if you'll please wait here in the atrium, the head of our security team will be around shortly to escort you to your quarters on Sub Level 2. Everyone else, I'd like a quick word before you retire for the night."

Chris grunted under his breath. Withholding the true nature of the facility for another day was a power play, plain and simple.

Sanaa headed for one of the corridors that led out of the atrium. Kenway briskly acknowledged Adam as she went. Zetterberg saluted him with another wink, "Later, _lillebror_."

Chris hung back until everyone else was out of earshot. "Are you going to be alright?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Adam nodded to the leaving team. "I wouldn't wanna be alone in a room with her."

Chris chuckled. "I might actually be safer staying here with you."

"I wouldn't mind that," Adam said, a little too quickly. He turned an impressive shade of red. "I mean, I-"

"Redfield," Kenway's voice called across the huge room. "Get your flirt on some other time, buddy."

Chris felt his face grow as hot as Adam's surely was. "Talk to you later."

"Right. Sure. If you don't know where to find me I'll be the one with his head buried in the sand."

Chris left with a curt nod - and the start of a smile. He jogged to catch up with the departing group.

* * *

Sanaa's office was much like her: pristine and ordered, cleanly to the point of being antiseptic. Nothing was out of place, not even a stray pen or paperclip. Chris and his teammates took their seats across her polished oak desk.

"I wanted to address a few housekeeping items before your _investigation_ ," she put air quotes around the word, as if it were dirty, "officially begins. We are happy to cooperate with Blue Umbrella or the BSAA or any watchdog group curious about what we're doing. Avalon's true purpose has been kept from the public only out of safety and security concerns. We don't have to tell you that corporate espionage and intellectual piracy are unfortunate realities we must deal with in today's hyper-connected world."

"We understand," Chris said.

"Good. What I'm trying to say is that while you have permission to observe what we've found and to audit our records, what you witness here will not go beyond the walls of this facility."

"With all due respect, Miss Wilke, we have an obligation to be transparent with Blue Umbrella."

Chris felt a certain unease in saying that - and hoped that Sanaa couldn't tell. Blue Umbrella was a recent entity, a supposed agent of good forged in the ashes of the former company's malfeasance. They seemed to trust Chris, but he was still figuring out how to trust them.

"And I respect that obligation, Agent Redfield. Your superiors and I have already come to an agreement. The only thing you will reveal to the outside world is whether or not Avalon is violating the Raccoon City Accords. That is your only purpose."

The events behind Raccoon City's destruction in 1998 were leaked not long after President Benson's death. The coverup was decried. The world had been wracked with bioterrorism attacks and the public was fed up. As a result, the United States government collaborated with the United Nations to create the Raccoon City Accords. It was a landmark piece of legislation that severely regulated genetic and biomedical experimentation. All 120 countries who ratified the Accords must approve of any research that falls into those categories, and even then, said research must explicitly benefit humanity or the environment and pass stringently set standards. In other words, no weapons and no viruses. Ever.

There were people who said the Accords were restrictive and detrimental to the scientific community. These unforgiving regulations, they said, obstructed humanity's ability to grow and evolve. Considering everything that Chris had seen in his career, he held a much different opinion.

The room had fallen silent. Sanaa eyed each operative carefully. "Am I to take these lack of responses as acceptance? May we move on?"

Both Zetterberg and Kenway looked to Chris. As much as he wanted to point out how obtuse and indirect this whole excursion had been, he still had to lead by example. As difficult as that often was.

"We can move on, ma'am," Chris said.

"Then enlighten me as to what role each of you will serve in this _investigation_." The air quotes again.

Kenway exhaled impatiently. She was as tired of this as Chris was, but didn't have his restraint. "I do the computer stuff."

"The... computer stuff, Agent Kenway?"

"I'll be the one looking over databases, records, and shared network drives. If you guys have a Microsoft Word document called _Our Evil Plan_ somewhere, it would make my job a lot easier."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you."

"Something tells me you're used to saying that."

Sanaa glared. "Pardon?"

Zetterberg abruptly cut in, more eager to deflect the tension than to actually speak. "Erm, so, my role is protection officer. I accompany Mr. Redfield and assess physical threats."

"The muscle," Sanaa noted. "Seems fitting."

"Thank you?"

Kenway, quietly: "I don't think that was a compliment, Paul Bunyan."

"That leaves us with you." Sanaa settled on Chris. "Am I right in assuming you're the alpha of the pack?"

"Not how I'd phrase it, but yes, I'm taking point on this mission. Personal interviews with your science staff will be conducted by me. I'll also be requesting to witness your research methods. My teammates will be reporting their own observations directly to me."

Sanaa played with her ring as she listened. A wedding ring, Chris noticed.

"How tidy, for everyone to be so clearly defined. I gather you're all tired. Outside my office, my secretary will distribute your passcards and assigned room numbers. If you're hungry, I'm afraid our chefs have clocked out for the evening, but the kitchen area is free to use. You'll be summoned tomorrow morning at 0800 hours to receive clearance for Sub Level 5."

Kenway couldn't wait to leave. She threw out a peace sign before she disappeared out the office door. "Later."

" _Hej då_ ," Zetterberg called as he followed.

When Chris rose next, Sanaa held out her palm. "Agent Redfield, a word?"

"Just one? Seems like we've exchanged a lot of them tonight."

"Do you have a family?"

The question caught him off guard. She didn't seem the type to care. "I have people in my life that I care about, if that's what you're asking."

Sanaa traced a finger around her ring again. Her voice was quieter now, softer. "I understand you have your suspicions. But endangering the planet is not something that interests me. I have no delusions of grandeur, no God complex, no thirst for blood. I want my children to grow up in a world without warfare, biological or otherwise. The last thing I'd ever want is another Raccoon City."

Chris shifted in his seat. He saw a semblance of something more than a calculating executive, if only for a moment. "I'm glad to hear that, Miss Wilke. Considering that's the cause I've dedicated my life to."

"Oh, I've read all about your exploits. You've quite the heroic reputation. I can assure you that nothing quite as... dramatic... as your previous missions will occur here."

"You know what speaks louder than words." A wry smile. Chris couldn't help himself.

Sanaa didn't even blink. "Clever."

* * *

Adam looked up from his novel at the sound of someone approaching him.

"Dr. Mifune," a towering man in black fatigues said. "Derek Wheeler, Head of Security. Miss Wilke requested I escort you to your quarters."

Adam shook his hand and stared at him - all six-foot-plus of him, with broad shoulders and a torso that went on forever. Much like Chris Redfield, Derek looked more like a well-built actor or fitness model than anything else. But Derek's vibe was clean cut, with wavy blond hair kept short, no facial hair, and dark green eyes that were direct and present. Late 20s, maybe, younger than Chris and closer to Adam's age.

"Right this way, sir."

Derek took him to a bank of elevators within the atrium. Stepping inside, the security officer hit the button for Sub Level 2 and handed Adam an object. It was a plastic wafer - like a credit card but thicker. One side was clear while the other was embedded with microchips.

"Your personalized Avalon passcard," Derek explained. "That'll allow you access to your room. It'll be enabled for Sub Level 5 access tomorrow morning. Keep it safe and on your person at all times."

A metal clip was fastened to one end. Adam hooked it to a belt loop on his jeans. "Can I ask if you know what Avalon's hiding down there?"

Derek considered his words carefully. "I know what's appropriate for me to know."

There was a quiet chime and the elevator doors whispered open. Sub Level 2.

Adam stepped out and looked around with great interest. It reminded him of his university residence building, except bigger and considerably more lavish: a communal lounge with beautiful furniture, a fire place, a floor-to-ceiling 4K TV, and an impressive kitchen with serving stations and cafeteria-style seating.

He followed Derek through the common areas into a winding set of corridors.

"These are the staff dormitories. Your assigned room is 22A."

"Cool. How long have you been working here, Mr. Wheeler?"

"Only a few weeks."

"Ah. Good to know I'm not the only newbie."

They reached room 22A. Adam swiped his passcard over the reader and was rewarded with the welcoming click of the disengaged lock.

"May I help you with your bags, sir?"

"Please, call me Adam. _Sir_ makes me sound like I should be wearing a monocle."

"Very well. If that makes you feel more comfortable."

"Appreciated." It almost made him laugh that Derek was completely unfazed by his - admittedly terrible - humor. "And thanks, I could use a hand."

Derek took the heaviest piece of luggage and gallantly stepped aside, allowing Adam to be the first to enter his new living space.

Adam was only two steps into the dark, unlit room when he sensed a figure already in there with him. A black shape in the shadows, turning around, becoming aware of his presence.

"Stand back!" Derek shouted as he rushed in with the momentum of a freight train and reached for something at his hip. It was all happening so fast - Adam thought he'd taken out a gun - but the object extended out with a fantastic locking noise. A retractable police baton. The figure advanced and Derek swung, hard and precise through the air like a knife. The figure ducked, expertly weaving around the attack, and then trapped Derek in an armlock.

"Wait, stop!" Adam cried. His hands blindly groped a nearby wall until he found a light switch. The ceiling light and a couple of lamps blinked on, illuminating a scene right out of some ridiculous action movie: Derek in a tense armlock with a perpetrator who wasn't some sinister monster, but a confused man wearing only boxer shorts.

Chris Redfield.

"Chris?!"

Derek shot Adam a confused look. "You know this guy?"

"He's one of the Blue Umbrella agents!"

"He's in his underwear," Derek said.

Chris, voice strained with effort: "Didn't realize getting ready for bed was a security violation."

Both men finally released each other but neither looked happy about it. The air was thick with adrenaline. It was like two mythical gods had just clashed.

"Chris," Adam's heart pounded in his chest, "What are you doing here?"

"Sanaa said that space was at a premium and that she had to double up some of the rooms. You're 22A, too?" Adam nodded. "Guess that makes you my roommate."

Derek glared at him. "You couldn't have announced yourself first?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong but you were the one who charged in and attacked me."

"I identified a threat to Doct- to Adam and acted accordingly."

"And who the hell are you to make that call?"

"Derek Wheeler. Head of Security. _That's_ who I am."

"Is that Avalon Security's motto? Bludgeon first, ask questions later?"

Derek scanned the man in front of him. Even without his bulky uniform, Chris was physically intimidating, with strong legs and arms thick with muscles. His brawny chest, honed to perfection from what had to be countless hours at the gym, heaved in the ray of the ceiling light.

"Adam is considered a top-priority employee. I was being careful."

"Careful," Chris echoed, punching the word back at him. "I think you were just looking for a fight."

 _Jeez_ , Adam thought as he watched the tense exchange. _Battle of the alpha males_.

"Mr. Wheeler," he cut in nervously, "Thank you for helping me with my bags. I, uh, I can take it from here."

Derek retracted the baton and returned it to his hip. He pinned Chris with a fierce stare before returning to Adam. "You let me know if you need anything. Just hit the Security preset on your room's comms panel."

"Aye, aye," Adam said. Lamely.

As the door closed, Chris shook his head in disbelief. "One second I was getting a drink of water, next thing I know someone's trying to club me unconscious."

Adam sat on the nearest chair and massaged a burgeoning headache. He suddenly felt very tired. "Not the greatest first impression he could've made, I'll admit. I'm sorry about that. He was wrong."

"No apology necessary. Captain America was lucky it was me and not someone who didn't have the training to deflect his attack."

In the kitchenette, Chris poured himself a glass of water. Adam's eyes roamed over their shared space. There weren't separate bedrooms, only two cots and a television, and another door that opened into a bathroom. Cozy for one person, but for two people, it would definitely be... intimate.

Adam placed his bags on the unoccupied cot. "Hope you don't mind having a bunkmate."

Chris polished off his glass of water, shook his head. "When I was doing basic training I slept in a room barely bigger than this with eight men. I was the only man in the Air Force who didn't snore."

"You're a pilot?" Adam removed his sweater and started to undo his jeans. He figured it was useless to be modest around another man already in his underwear.

"I was. Didn't get along with my superiors, sorry to say. I quit the first chance I got."

Adam slipped on a pair of pajama pants over his briefs. His usual night attire. Chris sat on the cot across from him and stretched out his long legs. They were defined and lightly hairy, just like his chest. Adam tried not to stare.

"By the way," Chris said, "If Zetterberg calling you _lillebror_ bothers you, I can tell him to stop."

"Oh, no, it's okay. He's just fooling around. And I've always wanted a big brother, to tell you the truth."

"They don't get bigger than Zetterberg. Only child, I take it?"

"Yeah. After my mom had me she was pretty much done. How about you?"

"Younger sister. Claire."

"What does she do?"

"Activism, mainly. She's an aid worker for TerraSave." Chris' expression warmed at the mention of her. "Feels weird, her having an actual career. She's still an annoying little brat in my eyes."

"She probably thinks the same about you."

Humor crinkled the corner of Chris' eyes. He had nice eyes, blue and bright in the soft glow of the room, warm when he wasn't in serious operative mode.

"Nervous about tomorrow?" Chris asked.

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep if I tell you how nervous I am. If what Sanaa and Avalon found is as incredible as they keep saying it is-"

"-then you'll be the one put in all the history books."

"Oh, great! That doesn't help with my potential insomnia."

"Give yourself some credit. Of all the archeologists in the world, Sanaa chose you to lead this expedition site."

Adam groaned, albeit playfully. "Now you're _really_ not helping." He collapsed backward onto his cot. "You ever feel like you're in way over your head, even after you've agreed to do something?"

"More often than you'd think, man."

Adam and Chris stayed up a little while longer, discussing the day ahead of them, trading theories about what they would see on Sub Level 5. Their conversation eventually ebbed as they both grew sleepy, and then they wished each other goodnight.

Shortly after turning off their dorm's lights and slipping into their cots, Chris cleared his throat.

"Hey, Adam?"

"Yeah?"

"Whatever happens tomorrow, you don't need to be worried."

"Why's that?"

"Because I'll be there."

The words warmed Adam in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. He held onto that feeling until sleep claimed him.


End file.
